


raise the flag

by mcwho



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banter, Groping, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 08:19:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcwho/pseuds/mcwho
Summary: Steve had made the mistake of laying on the sofa lengthways, on his stomach, so of course as soon as Bucky walked into the room he was all over that





	raise the flag

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Endgame and blacked out every time they talked about Steve’s ass. When I came to, the theatre was empty and this was in my google docs

“Mmm,” Bucky says, groping Steve’s ass shamelessly. “Mm- _mm_.”

Steve had made the mistake of laying on the sofa lengthways, on his stomach, so of course as soon as Bucky walked into the room he was all over that, climbing on and straddling his thighs and massaging. 

“You having fun back there?” Steve asks, deadpan. He’s on his tablet, watching some art tutorial. He’s taken to drawing digitally recently and it’s taking him some getting used to and a lot of practice. Steve would say it’s because Bucky keeps sapping his concentration like this but really, he seems to be doing a fine job regardless, ignoring him like he is. 

Bucky squeezes, suddenly rough, and Steve makes a hissing sound, sucking air in sharply. 

“Oh you have no idea, honey,” Bucky says, rocking just a little, grinding down so there’s no doubt left in Steve’s mind as to just how much fun he’s having. Had Bucky mentioned Steve is wearing tiny little star spangled shorts? Because Steve is wearing tiny little star spangled shorts. Practically _begging_ for this treatment, going around like he is. Bucky smacks his ass just to see it jiggle. God _damn_. 

Steve barely even gasps, like he was expecting it. Bucky twangs the waistband of his underwear. “You’re back there acting like it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before,” Steve says. 

“Shocks me every time, baby, can’t help it. Eighth wonder of the world right here, hand to God.” 

“Flatterer,” Steve mutters, like he’s still only half listening. 

“‘Just giving credit where it’s due,” Bucky says, grabbing at the creamy flesh, turned pink by his ministrations, fingers digging into the meat of Steve’s ass – but then again, it’s all meat, round and perky. The shape of his backside is something people write songs about. Bucky knows it, he knows what a poundcake is, he’s cultured, alright. He pushes at the fabric of Steve’s little shorts, bunching them up like he’s giving him a wedgie, and then he drools at the sight, his other hand running up to his comparatively obscenely tiny waist, then back down again. “God that’s pretty, honey. You got no right looking this good, no goddamn right.” 

“I ever tell you what a pervert you are?” Steve asks mildly. 

“Not today,” Bucky replies, squeezing Steve’s cheeks again. “Why? I do something to warrant it?” 

“Not gonna dignify that with a response,” says Steve. 

“Just did,” Bucky tells him, and then like he can’t take it anymore, he yanks Steve’s shorts down. Steve isn’t expecting it so he doesn’t lift his hips to help Bucky out, and there’s a ripping sound that Bucky barely hears but makes Steve finally look away from the screen of his iPad, only to glare back at him. 

“I liked those shorts.”

Bucky kneads his bare asscheeks. “God, baby, so did I. They’ll be sorely missed, I’ll tell you that, not a day’ll go by where I don’t think about ‘em.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you can keep your thoughts and prayers, I want a new pair by the end of the week, you hear me?”

“I hear you, Stevie, whatever you want, whatever you want,” Bucky says absently, palming himself through his own sweats, his flesh hand pawing at Steve’s ass still. God, his skin is soft. Pity there’s no slick around here – Bucky doesn’t think he can detach himself long enough to search for any either. “Mm,” Bucky breathes. 

“You’re a fuckin’ animal,” Steve huffs, and goes back to his tutorial, and Bucky just grins, partly because _look who’s talking_ , as if Steve’s not ten times worse when he wants to be. He lets his hand slip into his own sweatpants finally, gasps a little when he closes his fist around himself. He’s rock hard – he’s not gonna last, he knows that, if he’s already leaking before anyone’s even touched him. So Bucky does what any self-respecting individual in his situation would do: he pulls his cock out, and starts to stroke himself. 

Steve looks back at him at the telltale wet sounds of masturbation, eyes darting from Bucky’s cock to his face, and then back again. After a second, he asks, “You’re really worked up, huh?” 

“You’ve no idea– _Christ_ ,” Bucky moans, hips bucking up into his fist, thumbing at the dimples at the base of Steve’s spine. 

“Mm,” Steve hums. “I’ll let you finish,” he says, then turns away again. Bucky groans, guides his cock lower and lets it slide against the crack of Steve’s ass, pre-come slicking the way. He shivers at both the sight and the sensation, and he’s rutting against him faster, cock up against Steve’s hole. He grinds slow and hears Steve’s breath catch, just a little, and then he’s coming with a low, breathy groan of Steve’s name, spilling over the swell of his ass, the small of his back. 

Bucky gets a second to drink in the sight before Steve turns under him, knocking Bucky over to the side in the process so he’s laying back, slumped. Steve’s hard as steel in what’s left of his shorts. Bucky grins. There it is. 

“Acting all coy like you were doing me a favour letting me love on you,” Bucky teases. 

Steve rolls his eyes, smiling still. “Half the reason you got off that quick was because I was ignoring you,” he says. “I know you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky says, eyes on Steve’s thickened cock. “Bring that over here.” 

“What, this?” Steve asks, pushing the shorts out of the way altogether, fist wrapping around himself. “You want some?” 

“Asshole,” Bucky says weakly, eyes a little glassy. He’s distantly aware that he’s salivating again. 

Steve strokes himself. “C’mere,” he tells him, voice husky. Bucky licks his lips and does as he’s told.


End file.
